The untold case: When past and present collide
by Efee
Summary: I tried, as much as I can, to make a story in the style of Sherlock Holmes. including trying to imitate his writing smile as mine isn't suited mysteries. It's my first mystery ever, so it may explain some things. The places mentioned, except for the names of cites, doesn't have any real base. All imaginary. I tried to make the characters as much as I can like the original ones.
1. It was a warm sunny day

**Lad - teenager boy (Britain English).**

 **Yard - around a meter**

Sometimes, things from your past come to you in most unpredctable way and at unexcepted time. But let's start with the beginning

It all began 5 years ago, in 1885. The date was July 28. It was a warm sunny Saturday morning. I sat down in our apartment at Baker Street and read the daily newspaper.

"Those scuttlers again!" I said out loud without noticing.

"Well, they are young and hot tempered. They need to release their stress somehow." Holmes didn't sound too interested.

"Being a gangster is one thing, but being a murderer is another."

"True, their fights for respect tend to get out of order."

"It wasn't a fight between scuttling gangs, Holmes. These two were separated from their gangs."

"Let me see." Holmes said as he took the newspaper from my hand.

Though he seemed to read, from time to time his eyes moved towards the window.

"Are you waiting for someone, Holmes?"

"No, but I wouldn't be surprised if he appears. And here he is."

Holmes got nearer to the window, and so did I. We saw a man around 40 clothed like one from the Proletariat. He seemed in a rush, and as Holmes said, he did enter our building. In a short time, we heard the steps. The knock wasn't late to arrive.

"Come in." Holmes said as he brewed him some wine.

The door was opened, and there stood our man. From up close he seemed breathless.

"It's good to see you again, Robert." Holmes pointed a chair "Come, have a sit."

"Thank you, Mr. Holmes..." He said as he looked at me.

Now that I looked at him closely, it seemed like the light was gone from his black eyes. He seemed desperate and hopeless. His brown hair and his clothes were a mess, like he came in a great hurry.

"I guess you didn't come because you missed me. It's about your son, isn't it?"

"You already heard the news?" The man held the glass of wine in his hand, wondering if to drink from it.

"It's in the newspaper, in the first page, no less. Don't worry, you can talk to my friend here, Dr. Watson, just as you talk to me.""

"I heard about your great ability. Don't get me wrong, if my son is to blame, I won't ask you to pull him out. But I truly believe his innocence. I will pay any amount."

"Asking money from you will be a crime. I'm enough with the excitement of chasing justice. I just hope it won't end up being to boring. Can you tell me anything?

"Edgar went with some friends. He came up late but I knew he came as he slammed the door. He was restless. He said his only memento from his mother had been stolen. I told him there's nothing to worry about, and what is important is that he treasures her despite never knowing her. He relaxed and went to sleep. Not long after the cops came and arrested him for the murder of Alois Walker. He said he had chased Walker after he had stolen his necklace but couldn't find him. He told them to search for it."

"But it wasn't found." Holmes mumbled.

"Yes, so they blamed him for killing him in order to take it back. I don't believe he's going to complain about his lost memento, when he already found it and took it."

"Why did they blame him in the first place?"

"They said the victim said his name right before he died. It seemed the gangs of the two were in a fight right before it."

"Well, Watson, seems like our days of boredom are over. We'll go talk with the young lad. Go home, Robert, you don't look so well."

"I will do so. I didn't sleep all night. I will be back in shop in by the afternoon."

Our man tipped his hat off and left the room. After he closed the door behing him, Holmes seemed eager to get ready, but I didn't get of my sit yet.

"What is it, Watson? You don't have an interest in my little investigations anymore?"

"I do, but there's something I wonder about. Though his son's name was mentioned in the newspaper, this man's was not. How could you know his name?"

"He's an old acquaintance of mine. He needed money, I needed his help. Good deal for both sides."

"Now it's all clear. Give me a minute, I'll change my clothes and arrange a suitcase." I said and went to my room.

After half an hour, we were outside. Holmes seemed in a good mood.

"It's good to have a sunny day once in awhile! Not too hot, not too cold. Perfect! And because there was no rain since yesterday, it will be easier to find evidence in our crime scene." Holmes said cheerfully.

"In the crime scene? I don't think anything was left since yesterday night."

"Well, no doubt, the body is no longer there, but maybe we will be able to find something else. After all, it's not as if we're having a better start point to begin with."

And so, we walked to the station to take a train to Manchester. We got to the crime scene just around 2 o'clock in the afternoon.

It was the crossing of two allies in one of the poorer neighborhoods of Manchester. By the blood left on the pavement, we could see where the body lied. Holmes took his magnifying glass, crawled on his knees and started to look around. In my point of view, it was pointless. No matter how I looked I couldn't find anything. But in the end, his straightened his back.

"Come here!"

I came nearer. He was 2 yards inside of the alleys. When I came closer, I saw him pointing on a little heap of tobacco.

"You know what does it mean, Watson? Someone waited here. And I won't be surprised if he waited to the victim. It seems he smoked punch cigars,"

"But how could he know he would come across here? After all, it was part of a chase."

"I also keep wondering. It may be the way to his home. The murderer saw the necklace and took it as well. I'd like to say that my theory is complete, but I still feel like there's something missing. We'll try to go to the police and ask them if they can help."


	2. Intial Investigation

**Sergeant - 2nd rank on police. His job is to be responsible to first ranked officer or to be a detective.**

After that, we went to the police station of Manchester. In the entrance stood a 35 years old red haired police officer. He was muscular, but his mustache gave him an aura of a business man. His green firm eyes were staring at us.

"Good noon, I'm Sergeant Blake. How can I help you, sirs?" He asked us in a solemn tone.

"Good noon to you. We are here to investigate the murder of Alois Walker." Holmes said in a pretty vain tone.

"I beg to differ. The case is closed. There's no doubt about the murderer's identity."

"But I do have doubts. May I talk with the shift manager?"

"Who are you, if I might ask?"

"My name is Sherlock Holmes, a consulting detective."

"Mr. Sherlock Holmes? I'll talk with the chief inspector, as we don't really have shift manager right now."

And so, the sergeant went to call his superior. After a minute or two, he came with the chief inspector. A 50 years old man, with an average height, a bit paunchy, his hair was already gray and his hat probably hid his alopecia. He looked cheery and even excited to see us. But the sergeant on the other hand, seemed pretty irritated.

"Mr. Sherlock Homes and Dr. Watson! It is an honor to meet you two! My name is Harry Geary" He said as he shook our hands.

"Seems like your parents loved poetry, if you have such a name." Homes remarked.

"Holmes, I don't think it's the time…" I started to say but was interrupted.

"You are right, my good man. The rumors were all true!" He laughed a friendly laugh and then said seriously "but I guess you came here for a reason."

"It is true. I came to check if Edgar Parish is really the murderer of Alois Walker."

"As I already said before, there's no doubt about his guiltiness." Sargent Blake said in irritated arrogant voice.

"Well, Mr. Holmes, may I ask you why do you think so?" The chief inspector asked.

"For now, it's only something minor, but I can't refuse my client."

"Then it's all about money?" The sergeant said in belittling tone.

"Well, I would lie if I said I never took money for my work, but I only did this when wealthy people were involved. Poor Robert is far from that,"

"Robert? Isn't he young Parish's old man? Do you call all your clients in their private name? You are ruder than I thought, Mr. Detective."

"Sergeant Blake!" The chief inspector reproached him.

"I met Robert at the time I lived in Manchester. He was my regular shoemaker. I asked him for special orders more than once, but he never asked me for a high price. I think it's only fair to help him now. But anyway, investigation is an investigation and I don't tend to refuse them after long days or boredom."

I couldn't like the sergeant. Mr. Blake had an ego of a high ranked officer. I don't know if he was new at the time or unfit to get any higher. If this was because of the last reason, I wouldn't be surprised why. It was true that the chief inspector treated Holmes with extra fondness, but I think it's much better than Blake's soar face.

"I know you start your investigations with uninspected clues, minor as they can be. Well, nothing bad can happen if you talk to him."

"But chief inspector!" Blake protested.

"As I said, nothing can happen from little talking. Maybe he'll be able to make him admit his crimes. Unfortunately, you can't use the investigation room."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Well, let's say it became a crime scene of its own. Two of our men were found there dead."

"How terrible." I said shocked. I never thought an investigation room would became a crime scene.

"Anyway, Blake, take them to Parish's cell." The chief investigator said.

"Yes, sir." Sergeant Blake looked really irritated.

While he led us, Holmes payed my attention to Blake. He sure seemed nervous for some reason.

"Only for a short time!" he shouted angrily.

"I won't need more." Holmes said as the sergeant took the keys from his pocket.

The sergeant opened the door. In front of sat a 19 years old lad. His light brown hair which got a bit above his shoulders was tied back, he was pretty skinny and his blue eyes looked a bit stunned.

"These two men came to ask you a few questions." the sergeant told him. "I'm going to stay here with you, so don't you dare to do anything stupid!"

I looked at the lad before us. He surely didn't look like a murderer, or even a gangster. He looked so naive, so confused. But, one mustn't be fooled by outer appearance.

As there was only one chair in the room, Holmes decided to stand up, while letting me to sit. He examined Parish from head to toe. After some time, the lad started to stare at him too.

"Do I know you, sir?" Edgar Parish asked suddenly. "You were my father's client, right?"

"Well, you sure have some good memory." Holmes smiled a bit "That's right. He asked me to bring the truth to light. Would you mind telling us what happened yesterday?"

"Well, I'm in a scuttling gang called The Tigers. Another gang, The Crows, teased us. We decided to meet in Saint Maria music hall in order to settle things down. We said we'd do it at 10 pm. They came only an hour later. We were even more or less. No sharp things or knives. A fair fight. Then, Alois Walker, who was part of The Crows, pushed me to ground. Before I could notice anything, he tore my necklace from me and ran away."

"Why chasing for a necklace?" Holmes asked as he finished.

"It is a memento from my mother. Usually, I don't take it out of the house, but this time, they guys called for me and I totally forgot."

"Is it a reason to kill someone?" The sergeant interrupted.

"I told you I didn't kill him! I didn't find him in the end!"

"So where is your lost necklace? We couldn't find it on the boy's body." Blake kept teasing.

"I don't know. Maybe someone took it…" Parish said with unsteady tone.

"Can you describe it?" I asked him.

"The necklace was made of cheap matel, but the pendant was a big ruby gem."

"You never a rich family." Holmes remarked.

"My father came from a normal family, my mother came from a rich one, and it's all that was left from her fortune."

"What was her sure name before marriage?" Holmes kept asking

"My father never tells me, no matter how many times I ask him."

"Well, thank you, my boy. We shall take our leave now. Come, Watson,"

I stood up and we went out together with Sergeant Blake.

"Now. get outta here!" the sergeant said right after he closed the cell.

"Mhmmm…" Holmes said after we got a bit away from him "Don't you think he acts odd?"

"Rude, no doubt." I answered

"I bet he credits himself for capturing the dangerous culprit. Remind me some of our friends from the Scotland Yard."

Holmes was right. It's true that the sergeant didn't seem to have anything with Alois Walker, but he did act suspiciously. On the other hand, except for denying, Parish didn't say anything which could prove him innocent. But from the way he spoke, it's clear that even if he did kill him, he wasn't cold blood murderer. The question is if his uneasiness is a result of regret or innocence.


	3. Shadows of the Past

**Jack - detective (Victorian era Slang)**

We went to a shopping arcade half an hour of walk from the station. Even though the buildings looked old and forlorn, it was tidy, decorated with flowers in every corner. Knife grinders, blacksmiths, woodworkers, seamstresses and many other craftsmen were in that little street. Somewhere in the middle of it, stood a little shop. No flowers decorated it, and on the simple door was a simple sign, "A shoe just for you". Holmes and I stopped, went to the door, and opened it.

Inside stood Robert Parish, working on a shoe intensively. He didn't even notice us.

"You'll lose clients if you don't even notice them entering." Holmes remarked.

Now, he finally stopped working and was looking at us. He didn't seem any better than he was in our apartment. He put his scissors and ruler down. He sat on a chair and pointed another two chairs. As I sat on the chair, I looked around. It wasn't just the front of the shop which wasn't so pleasant to the eye, but also its inner part. The walls were gray without anything to add some color. The furniture was very simple, all made of wood.

"Well, it seemed like you didn't renovated your little shop since I came here last time." It was Holmes who broke the silence.

"The economic isn't any better." Parish replied.

"Well, we talked with your son, and wanted to ask you few questions." Holmes got straight to the point. "Edgar mentioned his necklace had a ruby gem. He said your late wife came from a rich family, but you don't tell him from which one. So, can you tell us about her a little as well as how you met?"

"My wife was born with the name Jane Williams. I was her family's stable boy. Jane came to the stables a lot. She liked to ride the horses. I couldn't but fall in love with her." He answered as he lowered his head.

"And, how come a stable boy married his mistress?" Holmes said while leaning his hand on his thighs.

"Her house burst into flames. She rode her horse and I was with her, like usual, to keep her from harm. When we came back, we found what happened. I don't know why, but I'm pretty sure someone set it on fire." He said it hysterically, as though he went through it again.

"How are you so sure? You weren't there." I asked as it was obvious he knew something beforehand, but for some reason, didn't mention it.

"I heard heard lord Williams talking about someone gaining his fortune if he died along with his whole family."

"So, what did you do?" Holmes asked.

"I told Jane it's better to get rid off her sure name, cause they may found she is still alive. I decided to use this opportunity and ask her hand. A year later, Edgar was born."

"Back to the main topic." Holmes straightened up in his chair. "Did you know your son is a part of a scuttling gang?"

"I did, it's pretty common here. I tried convincing him to quit more than once, but he said it's important to him. That it's keeping him alive." Parish looked a bit calmer than before, but still uncomfortable and stiff.

"Edgar didn't seem so violent to join a gang." Holmes remarked.

"This is why I was so surprised to hear about it. In fact, Edgar didn't tell me himself, I heard from his friends. It doesn't suit his nature. I don't say, he used to be hyperactive as a child, but never violent. So I was even more surprised to hear he became the leader's gang in order to be known as someone you shouldn't get too close to. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe he isn't as he used to be. " As he said the last sentence, Parish had bitter and worried expression on his face.

"Why is it so important for him to have such an image?" Holmes asked.

"I don't know, he doesn't want to tell." Parish said hopelessly. "Maybe something about wanting to prove himself being a man."

"Thank you, Robert, we shall meet again." Holmes said while standing up.

I also stood on my feet. I tip my hat off to him, and both Holmes and I left the little shop.

"Up until I know, I didn't have any clues except for the tobacco which can be a total coincidence, but now I think I'm closer to prove the little lad's innocence, but on the other hand, I'm afraid Alois Walker wasn't meant to be the victim." Holmes said with a grave tone.

"If it's not young Parish who killed him, it's probable it was a thief who took a step too far. I won't be surprised if someone saw the gem and wanted it to himself. It doesn't mean he had intent to kill him from the start."

"I must say I prefer your version, but right now, we should check out the other option."

Just when I was about to ask Holmes what did he mean, a lad approached us. He looked around 18, clothed with simple sooty clothes. His curly red hair popped up under his hat and his hazel eyes seemed tired, He was a bit taller than usual, but despite being skinny, his muscles were visible.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, do you know how to get to the police station?" He asked

"It's surprising for a scuttler not to know where to police station is." Holmes answered.

"How did you know…" The lad started to ask.

"First of all, your clothes and your age. It's pretty easy to see you were hit, as well as your friends who stand over there." Holmes said as he pointed the direction where other two lads stood. "Are you Edgar Parish's friends?"

"We are. I am Thomas Flynn. And my friends there are León Rosales and Adam Archer,"

"We ourselves are going there. We would be glad to company you." Holmes smiled.

Flynn called his friends, and we all started to go together towards the station. As we walked, I couldn't stop wondering about Holmes' words. Five minutes' walk from the station, we stopped at one of the squares. Holmes sat on one of the benches

"I'm tired." He sighed as to show exhaustion, but I couldn't believe him. Holmes was just 31 at the time, and he had great physical fitness for his not so old age.

The three lads stared at each other. It seemed like they wanted to say something. But before they could say anything, Holmes started to talk:

"If we are already resting, I would like to ask you few questions." While saying that, he didn't seem tired at all. "How long do you know Edgar Parish?"

"Why you ask?" The dark skinned Spanish boy with brown eyes and hair, León Rosales, asked him.

"I'm sure you want to see him out." Holmes said calmly.

"But who said you're gonna help him?" asked the third lad, Adam Archer, a lad shorter than average, with blonde hair and blue eyes that would make him quiet handsome if not for all his bruises and filthy clothes.

"We are here to investigate if your friend is really innocent." Holmes answered.

"We found 'em next to Edgar's working place. I heard Edgar's old man went to find a jack." Flynn was the one to talk. "You're jacks, right?"

"I'm enough of a jack to see clearly that you are Blacksmith's helper, the Spanish boy, probably León, is newsboy, while the third is a woodworker."

The three lads stared at him, stunned.

"How did you know?" Archer was the first to break the silence.

"Piece of cake. You have sawdust on your clothes, Flynn's clothes are sooty, but not enough for him to be a full time blacksmith and the last one of you has black hands from ink." Now Holmes seemed extra energetic with his mischievous smile. "Now, can you answer my questions?"

The three looked at each other and then sat on the floor

"The three of you are scuttlers. Are you all from The Tigers?"

They lads nodded.

"When did you join?"

"The three of us joined togather 4 years ago." Rosales answered "It was even before Edgar's arrival."

"Can you tell me what happened last night?" Holmes said as he leaned back.

"We had a fight with The Crows." Flynn started "All we know that suddenly one of their members, Alois Walker, as we found out later, ran away from there and Edgar went to chase him."

"You waited there for a while, according to Edgar. Anything worth mentioning?" Holmes continued to ask.

"Around 10:30 pm, half an hour before they came, people came out of the music hall." Archer said. "And suddenly we noticed a man going out to the opposite direction than all the others. You see, when Edgar noticed him, he tried to hide from him. When I tried to ask him what happened he hushed me. After we told him went away, he still refused to tell us anything."

At that moment, I started to understand what Holmes meant. It wasn't improbable that the original victim is the one we met not so long ago behind the bars.


	4. Back to the disordered police station

**Investigator - third rank in police.**

After that, the lads gave us description of the man they had seen the night before. From there, we continued to walk to the police station. When the station was in sight, Holmes faced the trio who went behind us and said:

"You wait here. Come in after me and Dr. Watson walk out. Is it clear?"

The lads shrugged their shoulders, confused, but they seemed to accept his request. Holmes and I got closer to the station.

"You again?" It was Sergeant Blake who welcomed us as we arrived with his soar face.

"We haven't seen you for long time. I already missed you, I must say." Holmes stung him.

"Not just cocky, but a clown as well. I can't understand why the chief inspector admires you so much." His soar face seemed angry.

"We came here to talk with Edgar Parish again." I said as I thought it was better than letting Holmes make the Sergeant angrier.

"You sure are stubborn." Blake sighed "What this time? Did you find anything new?"

"You might say so. Will you let us in?" Holmes seemed impatient.

"Chief inspector Geary told me to let you in. So… I don't have much choice." He clicked his lounge.

Just as we entered, we saw the chief inspector.

"Blake, I'm sorry for all the problems I put you through today. You understand the situation, don't you? Now that Radcliff and Richards are gone and Swan is lying unconscious in hospital. If it's not enough, George is dead sick and Hope broke his limbs a week ago. We have a problem in manpower. But anyway, you can go now. I'll take for things from here. Donalds will be here soon to switch you." he said.

"Thank you. It was really tiring. I hardly got any sleep because of that brat." Sergeant Blake said angrily and left the station.

After Blake exited the station, the chief investigator turned to face us

"I'm sorry for his bad manner. I won't say he's calm usually, but in the last few days, we hardly have police officers available." He said in apologetic tone, and then asked "Have you come to Parish again?"

"Yes, we have. Can we talk to him?" Holmes asked.

"Well, right now, I don't have anyone who will be there with you. And as I said, the investigation room..."

"It's fine. The little lad won't hurt us. I can grantee it." Holmes said with confidence.

"Well, he really didn't do any trouble since he came here. But just to be on the safe side, you won't enter his cell."

"Very well. By the way, do you have the affidavit he wrote?" Holmes asked just as the chief inspector started to go away.

"We have affidavit, but not in his own handwriting. I haven't met a scuttler who knows to read and write." The chief inspector replied.

"Well, I'm pretty sure his case is different from the others. Can we can give him a paper for him the write his affidavit?"

"I'm embarrassed to say I have no idea where they are. Since I became the chief investigator, few things changed, it's one of them. But I'll search for it and hand it to you,"

And now, each of us went to his own way. We stood in front of Parish's cell. He looked at us.

"I thought it was the sergeant." Was all he said.

"Are you disappointed?" Holmes asked.

"Not at all. I'm pretty sure he hates me." Parish half smiled.

"Why do you think so?" It was my turn to ask. "If it's because he seems angry, he isn't nicer to other people."

"When he investigated me yesterday, he didn't stop to blame me. He tried to tell the story instead of me, step by step. No matter what I told him, he kept saying the same things. It was tiring for both of us." the lad sighed.

"He sure is stubborn. Anyway, he went home for now." I could hear in Holmes' voice he wasn't unpleased for Blake's absence. "May I ask you few questions, my lad?"

"Of course."

"When did you join The Tigers?"

"Two years ago."

"Why?" Holmes continued to ask.

"All my friends did. They all joined one sctullting gang or another, and most of them to this one,"

"Weird, when we asked your friends, they all said they joined at the age of 14. As much as I know, most lads join groups around this age. At 17 they start to think about retiring."

"Well, I…" Parish lost his composure

"Did someone threaten you?" Holmes kept pressing him.

"Just a madman..." Parish mumbled.

"What did he say to you?" I tried to say in the most soothing voice.

"He didn't say anything. We just bumped into each other. When I stood, he had a scary look on his face. I hit him and ran away." As he finished talking, he breathed in and out once as to calm himself down.

"Did you wear the necklace?" Holmes didn't seem much interested from him being uneasy.

"At the time, I wore it all the time, though the pendant was always under my shirt. No one suspected anything."

"So, did it go out of your shirt as you fell?"

"Yes."

"So that man noticed it?"

"Probably… Do you think he just wanted to take it?"

"I'm afraid people won't show a threatening expression when they only about to steal something." I remarked.

"As I thought…"

"Do you have any idea why?" I tried to ask in a calm voice before Holmes would ask in a harsh and threatening one.

"I know my father hides something from me. He doesn't tell me just my mother surname, he didn't tell me anything about their life before their marriage. Not when they met, not how." He seemed a bit nervous. "I also wondered why… Maybe it has anything to do with it?"

"But still, did you feel so threatened from one time meeting, that it made you joining a scuttling gang?" Holmes asked.

"Well, it happened more than once. I met him again in the same week, and the tried to do it again. A week later, it was someone else. The other man succeeded to catch me, but when he saw I didn't wear the necklace, he let me go." He sounded a bit panicked.

"And when you understood it's methodical, you decided to protect yourself, and even stop to wear the necklace."

"Except for yesterday. If I only remembered." Parish clenched his fists.

Just then, we heard footsteps. It was an inspector, in Blake's age. A smiler with auburn hair and gray eyes. He looked a bit suntanned and muscular. His shaved face seemed familiar.

"You are Harry's little brother, don't you? Wow, it's been ages. Do you remember me? It's me, Eric Donalds." He sounded pretty excited.

He was Harry's friend when he still learned in high school. When my brother broke ties with his friends, I guess Donalds was included.

"Yes, I do remember you." I answered indifferently.

"How is your brother doing?

"Fine." I didn't want to discuss it.

"I guess something is off, if you don't really wany to talk about it." Donalds said in apologetic tone. "Anyway, I heard you asked for affidavit paper, so I brought one."

Only then I noticed he held a paper and a pen in his hand. I saw Holmes watching him from the corner of his eye, he seemed interested. Donalds gave Parish the pen and paper and walked away. I was sure Holmes would say something, but he didn't say a word. Not to me, and not to Parish as he wrote his affidavit. Just as he finished it and gave it us, he opened his mouth.

"I see you are a left hand person." Was all he said.

"Well, true. Let me guess, this alone rises the chances for me to be the criminal." Parish said with sad face.

"I never said anything like this. It's true, it's easier to track left handed criminals, but in the end, their part of all criminals is not bigger than their part in population. I am aware of the stereotypes, but stereotypes are unfair and sometimes unjustified generalization. They aren't based on methodical deductions or anything."

"I wish the sergeant would think like you. But he said the murderer was left handed person."

"Did he see the body?" I asked

"Well, he was the first police officer to find Walker. It was on his shift."

"How sad he walked home already." Home sounded disappointed.

"I think the one who gave me the paper and pen saw it too. I'm pretty sure I saw his face yesterday when I was brought here."

"Thank you, we will ask him."

We left Parish, and searched for Donalds. We found him nowhere. We saw a young bright chestnut brown haired, police constable with green-brown eyes, around 25 years of age, pretty tall, fair skined, unshaved.

"Excuse me, did you see investigator Donalds?" I asked him.

"Sir Donalds? Something happened. Scuttlers again… Another skirmish… To think that the one we caught was from the few gangs who don't use knives." He sounded tired.

"They don't use knives?" Holmes asked.

"Yes, I'm not too proud of it, but my brother was the previous gang leader. He retired two years ago. Short time before, a newcomer came to his gang at the time when they used knives and refused to follow them in that matter. My brother, Mark, in one of skirmishes was almost stabbed in his back, but this guy stopped the knife and took the blow instead. Luckily, it was just his arm, but that's when my brother decided to quit. After that, the newcomer became the gang's leader and they stopped to use knives. Until yesterday, anyway…Mark says there's no way Edgar Parish did this, but… people change, don't they?"

"Did you see the body?" Holmes asked when he finished.

"Sorry, I was at home. You really better ask Donalds." He said and walked away.

"Well, it seems like we don't have anything more to do here. We better investigate somewhere else." Holmes said and both of us left the building.


	5. The Musical Hall

After we went out of the building, we saw the three lads. When they noticed us, they seemed a bit stiff.

"Anything new?" asked Rosales.

"In general, good news. And still, good news also mean bad news," Holmes answered.

"What's that mean?" questioned Archer.

"The less you know, it may be for the better." Holmes said and started to go away.

As we went away, I looked back to see how they would react. They looked confused and nervous, but in the end, entered the building.

"I think you frightened them." I said as we were far enough,

"That was my intention. I think it's better if they don't poke their noses."

"I understand your point, but what do you think they might do?"

"Well, you heard that police officer, until two years ago, the gang's members, include those three, used knives. They might try to something reckless which will bring to someone's death.."

"So, where are you going next?"

"I guess we don't have much to do until night. We better have a good sleep as our night may be long."

Not so far from the inn, Holmes said he forgot to ask Robert Parish something, so he'd return later. I didn't see him until 7 pm. We ate dinner and went to Saint Maria music hall. We watched the entrance. No one came in or out until 10 pm. Then men around 40 went out of it. Some alone, some in groups. And suddenly he appeared. A man who matched the description of the three lads, lightning a Punch cigar.

"Here our man! Now, let's see where he goes!" Holmes said as he rubbed his hands.

Unlike last night, our guy went to the opposite direction of the crime scene. He was chubby, in average height. His hair seemed completely white. He wore an expensive suit, like all the other men who exited the music hall. We started to follow him. He seemed too drunk to notice us. He went through the richer part of Manchester.

He waited for a cab. When one arrived, he entered it. Luckily, it didn't drive too fast. The horse was probably tired. It made it a lot easier to keep track on them.

I thought it would bring him home, but instead it stopped next to a place called "Poker Face". He went out of the cab and entered the building. We also went there, but the guard stopped us and didn't let us go any further.

"What's in your hand?" The guard asked.

"Full house." Holmes answered without hesitation.

The guard opened the door and let us in.

"How did you know what to answer?" I asked Holmes quietly after the guard closed the door behind us,

"It's not my first time here." He asked indifferently. "As you probably guessed, I lived in Manchester few years ago. In one of my investigations, I got friendly with the culprit and he showed me this club. It didn't help me much at the time, but it sure does now."

We opened the inner door. Inside was pretty large room with men between 30 and 50 years of age. The walls were decorated with red marble and a black carpet all over the room. They sat around tables, some with two or three and some had more people.

Among them, I was pretty surprised to see a woman around 33, dresses in red dress and a red lipstick on her lips. I was even more surprised she approached us.

"Do you know Black Jack?" She asked in a quiet voice.

"Do you mean, do we know to play?" I asked, confused.

"You were in the police station, weren't you?" She whispered.

"Of course I'll let you be alone!" Holmes almost shouted. He showed me the door with his head. I took her hand took her out of the room.

When we were at the corridor between the main front door and the inner one, I finally noticed her surprised expression.

"What are you doing?!" she took her hand out of mine.

"I'm sorry, madam. I didn't try to offend you." I said as I was quiet embarrassed.

"What do you want?" She let her rage go lose.

"You were the one who approached us." I answered "I guess my friend here, Holmes, assumed you wouldn't want to talk in front of those men."

"Holmes? Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the famous detective from London?" Now she was the who looked embrassed." If my late husband heard about it, he'd sure scold me. He really was a big fan of his."

"I'm sure Holmes will understand. But tell me: Who is Black Jack?"

"I wish I knew. All I know is he's the one to blame for my husband lying dead. I forgot to introduce myself; I'm Isabel Radcliff, the widow of investigator Peter Radcliff." She said in a shaky voice.

We stayed there as she told me how she met her husband, and how the code name "Black Jack" was known to her. She met her deceased husband 15 years before. It took 5 years to give birth to their only son, Damian. More than once she pledged him to retire his job, but he said he was born to do it. A week before, investigator Richards came to visit late at night. She knew as she woke up and heard them talking. She just heard Richards says "Black Jack wants our heads off." and her husband just said it wasn't possible. Four days later, both were found dead in the police station.

"I know it's a rude question," I said after she finished her story "If your son is only 10 years old, who is staying with him?"

"Donalds." she answered briefly.

"Do you mean Eric Donalds?" I asked

"Well, yes. Peter met Donalds and Richards in the training period. I met them as the three went to spend some time together."

Just when she finished her talks, Holmes opened the door in a rush.

"I got his name." was all he said "Henry Atteway. First time in life I heard this kind of surname."

"It's not as if your surname is too popular. That's even without mentioning your private name, which is used for surname itself, as much as I know,"

"Very funny, Watson." Holmes sounded a bit angered, and then he approached Mrs. Radcliff in more relaxed tone "We shall escort you home now. It's very late hour for a woman to be by herself. If we think we might get any help from you, be sure we'll come."

She seemed unpleased, but didn't say anything. As we she opened the door to her house, Donalds came out running.

"Where have you been, Isabel? I didn't know what to tell little Damian anymore." Though he smiled, it was from relief.

"I'm fine. And please, don't call me that."

"You know I left Manchester because of you, right? Now I'm here to stay. I won't leave you alone. I'll do everything I can to make you happy."

"Who's Black Jack?" Holmes asked instead of her.

Just then, Donalds noticed the both of us. He smiled an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, I don't know." He said that, but even I could see he was uncomfortable


	6. Conffesion

"Did you see that?" I asked Holmes as we went back to our inn.

"Yes, I did. He surely knows something, but we better wait for tomorrow."

As we walked, I told Holmes everything Mrs. Radcliff told me. He only nodded from time to time, but didn't say a word.

Next morning, just when we opened the door on our way out, we saw Mr. Parish standing there.

"I'm really sorry for all the bother I caused." he said "I'm really really sorry…"

"There's nothing to apologize for. After all, we're still in the middle investigation. Soon enough, we…"

"Edgar confessed!" Parish disturbed my friend's talk "He confessed it all! Step by step."

"It can't be..." Holmes seemed astonished.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Holmes. I'll pay you and your friend for your trip, I…"

"Robert! Don't give up yet! I'm sure… I'm sure we can prove his innocence."

Though Holmes tried to say it in confidence, his voice showed he was disturbed, which didn't make it sound real.

"You never knew to give up." Parish sighed "Most of the time it helped, but… I'm not sure if your persistence will work here."

Before Holmes could say anything, Parish left.

"Maybe we better focus on the investigation of murdered policemen, after all, this investigation is over. We better go to the police station, maybe Donalds know something." I said.

"Yes... Donalds…" he mumbled.

And so, we made our way to the police station again. We met the young constable we saw the last time.

"Donalds is here today." He said before we could ask, and pointed to a certain room "He's in the chief investigator's office."

"Thank you, young man." Holmes said and we went there and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" We heard the chief investigator voice.

We opened the door. Donalds bent over the desk. As the chief investigator noticed us, he raised from his chair.

"I guess Mr. Parish didn't catch you in time. The lad confessed. His guiltiness is certain."

"He did catch us in the last moment." Holmes answered "Even if you are right, and I believe you're all wrong, I still have some questions to Donalds in another matter."

"Do you mind, Donalds? You can come here later." The chief investigator said to him.

"Fine." Donalds answered but his voice gave away he didn't feel this way.

We got away from the room, and got closer to what was an investigation room few days before we first came.

"You know who Black Jack is, don't you?" Holmes asked.

"As I told you, I have no idea and I don't why you're asking."

"Richards told Radcliff he aims for their head." I said.

"Maybe a local criminal. For the last few years I work in Salford, I'm not familiar with the criminals here."

"So why did you look pale when he was mentioned?" Holmes urged.

"I was sick worried, it's enough to make one pale… Just of the thought what might happen to her."

"I would believe you, if your expression didn't change just after mentioning name was mentioned."

Donalds breathed deeply. He seemed uncomfortable.

"I really don't know who it is… It just… reminded me of someone." He said hesitated.

"Can you tell us who?" I asked.

"When we were in training period, the one you know as sergeant Blake was known as Black, Jack Black. So, some guys made a joke about it and called him Black Jack. That's why he changed his surname. But I heard there's a culprit in Liverpool with the same nickname."

"A weird question." Holmes said "Is Blake the only one who didn't become an investigator?"

"Well, I guess. He's not someone who's too easy to deal with. And Peter said he screwed up many times. In one investigation, he wrote in the report someone had bruises in the left side of his head, when it actually was the right. It happened more than once."

"I knew something is off!" Holmes said and hurried to the cells' direction.

"What are you doing?!" Donalds stopped him.

"Maybe I can prove his confession isn't so trustworthy."

I and Donalds stood before young Parish's cell just few second after Holmes. The young lad seemed surprised. But even though his surprise was the first thing I noticed, quickly enough I saw his eyes were red, not sure if from lack of sleep or crying. Crying seemed probable as he seemed uneasy more than surprised.

"My young man," Holmes held the bars and reminded a lion which was about to jump on his prey "Tell us your confession."

"I told the sergeant everything. He even wrote it down."

"Sergeant Blake isn't here, and the affidavit is nowhere to be found. We need you to tell us your version again." This time, Donalds answered before Holmes could say anything.

The young lad sighed hopelessly. The traces of smile he had in our previous meeting were replaced with total despair. Despite for him seeming unwilling, he started to say his statement.

"As I told you before, I knew we would have a fight with The Crows that day. In order to teach them a lesson, I took a knife with me. Many scuttlers are killed by knife, and most the time they're not arrested for long. So, when the guys called me, I took one with me."

I pipped at Holmes' direction. Like me, he did not seem to believe his words.

First, he remembered to take a knife, but forgot to take off the necklace he cherished. Second, he was the one who stopped his own gang from using knives. What happened suddenly?

"We got there, and waited for them until 11. They appeared, and the skirmish started. At that time, I was too busy protect myself, so I couldn't take my knife out. Then, my necklace fell off..."

"He picked it up, ran away and you went after him. But never found him." Holmes interrupted.

"I did find him in the end." Parish said in shaky voice. "I found and… stabbed him."

For a moment or two, there was complete silence. Then I noticed Donalds opened the cell and went in. He bent down in front of the prisoner and asked him in a soothing voice "Can you be more specific?"

"I… stabbed the left side of his chest… I stabbed him as I ran after him."

"You stabbed him from the back?" Holmes asked.

"Yes." the lad mumbled.

"Who are you covering?" Donalds said in resolute tone. When he only got confused look in response, he raised his voice "Who are you covering?!"

"No one…" The fear was heard in the lad's voice

"Who told you to say this?!" Donalds was close to shouting.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked. I wasn't used to see him like this.

"He's lying. He's absolutely lying!" Donalds said with a raised voice and "Walker was stabbed from the front!"


	7. Can one's truth be a lie?

**I know this chapter is shorter than the others. And I'm sorry if my explanation sounds too weird, I'm not 100% familiar with the topic as I didn't really look into it.**

I didn't think Holmes would be surprised, but I didn't except him to smile. Once again, he looked like a lion who is about to jump on his prey, but this time, the prey wasn't the young lad.

"Are you sure he was stabbed from the back?" Holmes asked, trying to look indifferent.

"No doubt. One of his front limps was damaged because of the knife, but none of back limps."

"I don't lie… It's the truth…" Parish mumbled.

"He's not lying." As Holmes said it, he made Donalds look back at us "Or so he believes."

I was surprised from this weird statement and Donalds also seemed speechless.

"What do you mean, Holmes?" I couldn't but ask.

"You heard it yourself, didn't you? Our young lad said Sergeant Blake repeated to tell him what he did apparently, no matter how much he denied it."

"I know Jack can be stubborn when he believes in someone's guilt, but it has nothing to do with it." Donalds tried to sound calmer, but it was clear his feelings of anger changed to a thing other than calm.

"Did you hear about fake memories, inspector Donalds?" Holmes asked him.

"Fake memories?" Donalds seemed astonished

"Though we clearly should use brain for investigating, it can be really deceiving sometimes if we don't pay enough attention. You can repeatedly tell someone a story, until he starts to believe it. His brain closes the missing gaps and fake memories are created." Holmes explained.

"In other words, Blake tried to make him confused?" I asked

"Maybe yes, maybe no."

"That's insane!" Donalds raised his voice again.

"Let me show you." Holmes said as he got near Parish who sat all this time with disbelieving look on his face. "What did you do after the stabbing? Did you go straight home?"

"No, I was…" the lad started to say something and stopped. After few seconds. he added "chasing Walker? But it doesn't make sense. Why should I chase him if he's dead…?"

"As you can see, my dear inspector, Blake was so focused on what happened before the stabbing, he forgot Parish had being actually looking for him the whole time."

Donalds seemed irritated. He clutched his fists.

"Do you think that the whole time, Jack was covering for others?"

"I don't understand." Suddenly said the lad who seemed now out of shock. "What will he gain by doing this? We never met before my arrest."

"No, but maybe he met the real culprit. Do you know anyone by the name Henry Atteway?"

While Parish shook his head for Holmes' question, Donalds seemed uneasy.

"The most famous gambler in this region. We heard about him even in Salford."

"But I don't know any gamblers." Parish marked.

"Your friends said he appeared short time before the fight, and made you look uneasy."

"I read both your affidavits, and nothing was written about it." Donalds remarked.

"In the last one, he just followed Blake's stories."

"And in the first ones I didn't find it important." the lad added.

"Then how do you know about this?" Donalds turned his head to Holmes. "Jack also questioned his friends, and…"

"It's probable that if Blake is a collaborator, he wouldn't even bother to ask anything and just make up answers. Anyway, if that Atteway is so famous, we should ask the chief investigator about him."

Donalds nodded in agreement, and so, the three of us left Parish's cell and went to the chief inspector's office. As we walked, I payed attention to Donalds' stiff steps. When we stood in front of the door, it took Donalds few moments to knock on it,

"Come in." We heard the chief investigator's voice.

Holmes didn't wait and opened the door. He almost seemed happy.

"Nice to see you again, Inspector Geary. The one person we need right now".

"Excuse me?" The investigator said, confused.

"I'm sure if someone knows about criminals in potential around the area, it's you".

"Well, yes. How may I help you?"

"Does the name Henry Atteway rings a bell?"

"Well, yes, Blake's cousin."

"Blake's what?" Donalds hardly could utter the words.

"Blake's cousin. When I first came here, he asked me personally not to involve him if any charge would rise against him. If you ask me, I'm surprised we never found him guilty in anything."

"Why did you accept to find him guilty in the first place?" Holmes asked

"Well, he got a fortune out of nowhere. A theft is not something unreasonable in this case."

"What his relationship with Blake?"

"As much as I know, not much. Bake gets away from him as he knows the suspicions around him. Though he says he has no idea about the matter."

"I believe they started to meet again lately. Our friend Donalds here said that the name Mrs. Radcliff mentioned was also the nickname of Investigator Blake."

"What name?"

"Black Jack. She said she heard her Inspector Richards talking with her late husband about him wanting them dead."

"Well, it's better to ask Blake directly as I have no idea who you're talking about. He should arrive in any moment. You can wait for him in his office."

And so we did.


	8. Black and White Jack

Around 20 minutes later, the door was opened and Blake looked at us, surprised.

"May I know what you're doing here?"

"Waiting for you, of course." Holmes smiled.

"What the hell do you want now? Didn't you hear the brat had confessed?"

"Jack, when Peter was still alive, he said you have tendency to confuse left and right." Donalds said before Holmes could answer.

"That little… How dare he talk about a colleague behind his back?" Blake sounded angry.

"Parish said he stabbed Walker from the back in the left of his chest when actually it was the other way around." Donalds didn't let him off. "I saw the body myself, I know it."

"Maybe he got it wrong. This time, he wrote his affidavit for himself."

"That's the lamest excuse I ever heard." Holmes remarked.

"Excuse me? Why should I make up excuses?!" Blake shouted.

"Because you killed Walker, And not only Walker, but Richards and Radcliff as well."

Blake took a step off and looked pale.

"Why, Jack, Why?!" The pain was heard in Donalds' voice.

"Let me explain." Blake sighed and entered the room.

It took him few moments to start to talk.

"It's true I killed Walker, but you can't blame me for Richards and Radcliff's deaths."

"So why did Richards said you want them dead?" Holmes asked.

"It's true that I got drunk and yelled at them. You see, it's really frustrating to see everyone promoted while you're in the same spot."

"How dare you?! It's your incompetence that won't allow you get any higher!" Donalds yelled at him, and after he finished he kept panting.

"I know, but I'm a still a human being! Am I not allowed to be angry? To be jealous?!"

"But to kill… this it too much."

"Didn't you hear me? I didn't kill them."

"Then who did?" Holmes asked in almost indifferent tone.

"Henry… my cousin. He was at the pub and heard it all. Few days later he told me he had done a favour for me, so he asked me to help him in return."

"He said he killed your colleague for you?"

"Yes… In return, he asked me to kill Parish. Otherwise, he'd tell that I did it and he can bring witnesses who had heard me that day."

"So, in order not to be blamed for one crime, you committed another." Holmes seemed almost smiling "But it all went wrong. You killed the wrong person."

"That's right. Henry told me to kill the lad with the necklace. But in the end, it was the guy he had payed for bringing Parish there. We covered it up. I said I heard Walker saying Parish's name. But both Henry and I knew it's not enough."

"So you planted fake memories into him."

"Yes. It was Henry's idea. I don't know where he got it from or how he knew it's gonna work."

"Unfortunately for you, you talked with him only about what happened before the murder and you totally forgot he was chasing Walker the whole time. It was one of the things which clarified the confession didn't describe what had happened in reality. That and what Donalds said."

"Are you a smoker?" I asked.

"You remember the tobacco? Well, our friend Henry smokes this kind of cigar." Then, Holmes turned his head to Blake "Though I wonder what he did there if he let you do all the dirty work."

"He wanted to get rid of the body. He didn't trust me too much in that matter."

"But he trusted you enough to kill him? Or was it easier to blame you if something went wrong?"

"I don't know… I don't why he did it in the first place. I can't say I'm happy with what I did or its result, but Walker probably deserved it. Richards found right before his death about Walker's deeds. He didn't just try to give a hand in killing Parish."

"What else did he do?" I asked.

"Seems he worked for Henry before. This boy has blood on his hands."

"Your cousin sure is a coward." Holmes wrinkled up his nose. "I guess you aren't in best terms with him right now. Can you tell us anything about him? "

"Not much, I must say." Blake sighed "he's ten years older than me, so we had never much connection in the first place. When he was a lad, he met a noble and started to work at his place. I heard he came home for Christmas and New Year. One day, the man and his whole family were caught in flames right before Christmas. No survivors were left. After that, he got a huge fortune, maybe it has anything to do with that man."

"Was his name Williams by any chance?" My friends asked.

"Something like that… Edward Williams, I think. But we can't blame him for that. This WIlliams wrote in his will to give him his money if something happened to him." Blake mentioned

"But don't you find him miraculously lucky?"

"Well, it sure sounds a great coincidence."

"Wait, Holmes." I interfered. "Wasn't Parish's mother's name Jane Williams?"

"Exactly, my dear Watson."

"So it explains it all!" Donalds suddenly stood up "If Williams has a successor, Atteway will have to say farewell to the money."

"Good to see there are some clever police officers." Holmes smirked. "The question is: where is he?"

"In his house, I guess. He doesn't wake up too early in the morning. You may find him in Green Lane. It won't be too difficult to find it. He has the biggest house in the whole street."

"It's our time to go, I guess." Holmes rose from his chair.

"Wait." Blake stopped him "What will you do about me?"

"It's my not responsibility to take care of such things." Holmes replied without even looking at him "You might say you're in the mercy of Donalds' good will."

We both left the room, not waiting to see Donalds' respond.


	9. Conclusion

We came to Green Lane. Just as Blake said, it wasn't too difficult to find Atteway's house. It was enormous. His garden didn't have a single flower, but had many trees and sculpted shrubs, most in shapes of animals.

"What a weird yard." Holmes mumbled as we got closer to the house.

"I don't think he will love the fact that cops came to visits." Donalds remarked.

"Tell him you have interest in his unique sculpted shrubs which Blake mentioned."

"But I don't know a single thing about it."

"Use your brain. There's a reason why you have one."

Donalds didn't seem satisfied, but didn't add another word.

"But what should I say, Holmes?" I asked "He knows you, but not me."

"I told him you're responsible for an exciting gambling."

"What kind?" I asked hesitantly

"That's for you to decide." As we stood in front of the door, after Holmes finished his sentence, he rang the bell.

A 50 years old tall servant with gray hair and eyes with a monocle opened for us.

"How can help you, gentlemen?"

"In fact. I came with this gentleman." Holmes said as he pointed to my direction,

"I met them by coincidence on my here to ask about Atteway's sculpted shrubs." Donalds added.

"I'll tell him right away." The old man said.

"Tell him Adam Hill is here." Holmes said before the servant turned his back to us.

"As you wish."

It didn't take him long to return.

"I'm sorry," the servant said as he looked at Donalds "Mr. Atteway prefer to see Mr. Hill and his companion first. You'll have to wait."

"Will you at least let me in?" Donalds seemed quite angry, though I can't tell if it was real or part of our plan.

"Well, of course. You can sit in the in the guest room."

"That won't do. I'm a busy man. I rather wait right outside the door and ender after right after these two gentlemen."

The servant seemed displeased but still nodded.

And so, we were lead to Atteway's office. Donalds stayed outside, just as planned. I hoped his servant wouldn't stick around and have his eye on Donalds.

"Mr. Hill! Welcome, welcome!" Atteway seemed overjoyed "Is that the one you mentioned?"

"Yes, he is." Holmes said while moving his hand towards my direction in order to introduce me. "Mr. Atteway, this is James Bannister. James, this is Mr. Atteway."

I wondered what Holmes told him. I never found gambling exciting. It was up to me to think of something. Atterway's vicious face gave me an idea.

"Underground dogs' fights," I said.

Dogs were outlawed in 1835, but still occurred all across Britain. I never witnessed one, and I would like it to stay this way.

"Fantastic! Fantastic!" He seemed more thrilled than before "When and where?"

"James won't let anyone in." Holmes came to my help "After all, we don't want problems with the cops."

"Not a word. I despise them as much as you do." Atteway laughed.

"We are glad to hear. And money doesn't look like a problem either. Though I must wonder: how you own that amount of money without being a noble? Did you get it in the mines of US?"

"I kind of inherited it around 20 years ago. I worked in the estate of Edward Williams and he wrote in his will that if anything would happen to him and his family, I'll get the whole money,"

"Why is that?" I asked

"Well, I did save his life. He had a heart attack and I was in the right place on the right time. That's was why he also let me be his butler. Soon after, he and his family were caught in a fire in their house."

"What lucky bastard you are." Holmes laughed.

"Well, as you also have things to hide from the police, I don't mind telling you but it was me who set the house on fire."

"Did you?!" Donalds' voice was heard as the door hit the wall.

"Who are you?! What are you doing here?!" Atteway yelled as he rose from his chair.

"Gardening business". Donalds answered calmly "or that what I told the servant who let us three in."

"Now it's all clear." Holmes didn't seem as friendly as he did just a moment ago "You tried to kill Edgar Parish after discovering he was the last heir of Williams, as you intentionally killed his mother's family, and Edgar threatens you as he is a family member, which means, he'll get money if they find about him."

"Mr. Hill, are you...?" Atteways started to ask.

"Let me introduce ourselves again. My name is Sherlock Holmes, the one next to me is Dr. John Watson and behind us stands Inspector Donalds from Salford who works nowadays in Manchesrer after you killed the two inspectors."

Atteway looked around him. The only two ways to get out of his office were through the door or the window. He started to turn towards the window, but Holmes was fast enough the grasp him first.

"You are under arrest." Donalds said as he put cuffs on his hands.

"Why won't you listen to me?!" Atteway shouted.

"Young Parish identified you as his attacker and your own cousin told us about youe deeds. I think it's quite an evidence against you." Holmes said with a winning smiled.

In the end, thanks to Blake's help, Atteway was arrested. I thought long stay in prison may suit him, but he committed suicide short time after being sent there. Blake was prisoned for three years, but in the end, the chief inspector freed him, saying he needs some help. Though Blake didn't return to his old job, Geary hired him as a secretary. Seems like he can't find himself in the police station yet. Donalds stayed in Manchester and helped Mrs. Radcliff as much as he could. Short time after Blake was freed, the two married and they even invited him.

And as to the young lad? He was astonished with all the money he got. he stayed speechless when we told him about it. But, as I came to invite Holmes to my own wedding, Holmes told me he got a letter for the both of us with invitation to Parish's wedding with Miss. Alice Noel in the orphanage he opened with the money he got which was situated in the place his killer once used to live.


End file.
